Always
by Shadowsong1
Summary: Rating for language and violence


**Always**

**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The plot is the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

I should have known it would happen.

I should have _known_.

The palace was under attack—under siege—for the second time in less than a month, which meant that someone, somehow, somewhere along the line, had outsmarted us. And, much as I disliked the notion of being the one to let Azula know, Ty Lee was busy with that prisoner she'd taken, early on in the struggle, and that meant I had to find the princess and tell her that we were probably oh so very fucked.

The fourteenth room I checked—having a palace built like a maze was a wonderful thing when trying to prevent harm to its important residents, but annoying as hell when trying to find someone—was torn up, something out of a nightmare. Ash and smoke and the tattered remnants of wall hangings drifted, aimless, through the air. I tripped over something, and, biting back an indignant curse, looked down.

Azula's body. She was still warm. The blood desperately clinging to the sword plunged in her chest was still red, still wet. I swallowed, hard.

"Mai…?" someone, behind me, barely audible. I knew that voice. I'd know _that_ voice anywhere. _Shit. Shit shit shit shit _shit. I turned around.

Yes. Oh so _very_ fucked.

He was…torn. There was no other word for it. Whatever she'd done—lightning or fire, it had to be—had ripped open his torso. The edges of the hole—gash? Tear?—were charred black and, through the hole, I could see something red and pulsing—his liver? His stomach? Ty Lee would know better than me—and, stained with ash, part of a rib. I felt like I was going to throw up.

The worst of it wasn't the damage, oh, no. the _worst_ part was that he was still alive, still awake, still breathing. _Oh, fuck_…_Oh _fuck

"I'm hurt…" he said. He seemed surprised, as if, after all that his father had done to him, all those years ago, nothing could seriously hurt him anymore. "How bad?"

"Not so bad as all that," I lied. "You're going to be fine. Everything's going to be fine."

"Liar. Help me see?"

I knelt next to him and gingerly helped him sit up. I don't know if he managed to see the damage before he fell back with a soft little cry of pain. I swallowed, hard, again. "I'm going to go get some help, ok? I'll be right back. Just…stay here…" _What else could he do? _"And…try not to move too much, ok? I'll be right back."

I turned to go, and he caught my hem. "Don't leave."

"I'm not leaving." _Not exactly_. "I'm just going to get some help. I'll be right back, I promise."

"Please. Stay." He kept a hold on me, viselike, as if my clothes were his only lifeline. "Know I shouldn't ask. After all I did. Just…please. Just 'til I'm sleeping."

_The fuck?_ "I'll be right back. I _promise_. But you need help, and I can't—"

"Won't be long," he whispered. "Tired…so tired…" His eyes started to drift shut.

And then it clicked, what he meant. _Fuck!_ I dropped to my knees next to him. "You can't. You _can't_ sleep now. You have to stay awake, stay with me. Please, stay with me."

He didn't say anything.

"You know what? You're right. You're right; you _shouldn't_ ask me to stay. You have no right. After you _left_ me, _twice_ to go on some stupid damnfool quest. I—I know the first time wasn't your fault. I _know_ that. But you were _gone_, for _three fucking years_. And even if you _didn't_ decide to go or even really want to, it still hurt. You still _left me_." _I was thirteen then, and I already knew__ that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Watching you sail away was the worst thing that ever happened to me_. "And everyone thought I was crazy, thinking you'd be back, but I _knew_ you'd come back. Somehow, I _knew_ it. I knew you couldn't leave me forever." _But three years _felt_ like forever, and I was starting to give up on you, starting to be ready to move on, even though I loved you, loved you, always loved you_. "And then you _did_ come back, like I always knew you would. But then you left _again_, just when I was starting to forgive you for it." _Who the _fuck_ do you think you are, talking in your note about redemption and love and releasing me from promises? If you're going to leave me, you should've done it to my face. For once, just for once, don't turn your back on me when you're going to leave_. "But—but none of that matters anymore, ok? I promise, I'll forgive you for leaving before—both times—completely—if you'll just stay with me now. Just stay awake, just a little while longer. Please, stay with me. _Please_. I'll forgive you, I promise, if you just stay with me now. Just a little while longer, just hold on."

"I'm sorry, Mai…" he whispered. His hand went limp in mine, and would have fallen, if I weren't holding on to him, viselike, as if his hand was my only lifeline.

"Don't apologize, just stay with me. Stay with me."

I stayed there, holding on to him, begging him not to leave, until someone found us and gently pulled me away.

I should have known it would happen.

I should have _known_.

Just like Ty Lee always smiles, and Azula always lies, Zuko always leaves.


End file.
